Ben Hur Lew Wallace (black male authors .TXT) 📖

“Haste!” he said. “I have an engagement with the consul.”

The spur was effective.

“Two to one,” cried half a dozen in a voice.

“What!” exclaimed the purveyor, astonished. “Only two to one, and yours a Roman!”

“Take three, then.”

“Three say you⁠—only three⁠—and mine but a dog of a Jew! Give me four.”

“Four it is,” said a boy, stung by the taunt.

“Five⁠—give me five,” cried the purveyor, instantly.

A profound stillness fell upon the assemblage.

“The consul⁠—your master and mine⁠—is waiting for me.”

The inaction became awkward to the many.

“Give me five⁠—for the honor of Rome, five.”

“Five let it be,” said one in answer.

There was a sharp cheer⁠—a commotion⁠—and Messala himself appeared.

“Five let it be,” he said.

And Sanballat smiled, and made ready to write.

“If Caesar die tomorrow,” he said, “Rome will not be all bereft. There is at least one other with spirit to take his place. Give me six.”

“Six be it,” answered Messala.

There was another shout louder than the first.

“Six be it,” repeated Messala. “Six to one⁠—the difference between a Roman and a Jew. And, having found it, now, O redemptor of the flesh of swine, let us on. The amount⁠—and quickly. The consul may send for thee, and I will then be bereft.”

Sanballat took the laugh against him coolly, and wrote, and offered the writing to Messala.

“Read, read!” everybody demanded.

And Messala read:

“Mem.⁠—Chariot-race. Messala of Rome, in wager with Sanballat, also of Rome, says he will beat Ben-Hur, the Jew. Amount of wager, twenty talents. Odds to Sanballat, six to one.

“Witnesses: Sanballat.”

There was no noise, no motion. Each person seemed held in the pose the reading found him. Messala stared at the memorandum, while the eyes which had him in view opened wide, and stared at him. He felt the gaze, and thought rapidly. So lately he stood in the same place, and in the same way hectored the countrymen around him. They would remember it. If he refused to sign, his hero-ship was lost. And sign he could not; he was not worth one hundred talents, nor the fifth part of the sum. Suddenly his mind became a blank; he stood speechless; the color fled his face. An idea at last came to his relief.

“Thou Jew!” he said, “where hast thou twenty talents? Show me.”

Sanballat’s provoking smile deepened.

“There,” he replied, offering Messala a paper.

“Read, read!” arose all around.

Again Messala read:

“At Antioch, Tammuz 16th day.

“The bearer, Sanballat of Rome, hath now to his order with me fifty talents, coin of Caesar.

Simonides.”

“Fifty talents, fifty talents!” echoed the throng, in amazement.

Then Drusus came to the rescue.

“By Hercules!” he shouted, “the paper lies, and the Jew is a liar. Who but Caesar hath fifty talents at order? Down with the insolent white!”

The cry was angry, and it was angrily repeated; yet Sanballat kept his seat, and his smile grew more exasperating the longer he waited. At length Messala spoke.

“Hush! One to one, my countrymen⁠—one to one, for love of our ancient Roman name.”

The timely action recovered him his ascendancy.

“O thou circumcised dog!” he continued, to Sanballat, “I gave thee six to one, did I not?”

“Yes,” said the Jew, quietly.

“Well, give me now the fixing of the amount.”

“With reserve, if the amount be trifling, have thy will,” answered Sanballat.

“Write, then, five in place of twenty.”

“Hast thou so much?”

“By the mother of the gods, I will show you receipts.”

“Nay, the word of so brave a Roman must pass. Only make the sum even⁠—six make it, and I will write.”

“Write it so.”

And forthwith they exchanged writings.

Sanballat immediately arose and looked around him, a sneer in place of his smile. No man better than he knew those with whom he was dealing.

“Romans,” he said, “another wager, if you dare! Five talents against five talents that the white will win. I challenge you collectively.”

They were again surprised.

“What!” he cried, louder. “Shall it be said in the Circus tomorrow that a dog of Israel went into the saloon of the palace full of Roman nobles⁠—among them the scion of a Caesar⁠—and laid five talents before them in challenge, and they had not the courage to take it up?”

The sting was unendurable.

“Have done, O insolent!” said Drusus, “write the challenge, and leave it on the table; and tomorrow, if we find thou hast indeed so much money to put at such hopeless hazard, I, Drusus, promise it shall be taken.”

Sanballat wrote again, and, rising, said, unmoved as ever, “See, Drusus, I leave the offer with you. When it is signed, send it to me any time before the race begins. I will be found with the consul in a seat over the Porta Pompae. Peace to you; peace to all.”

He bowed, and departed, careless of the shout of derision with which they pursued him out of the door.

In the night the story of the prodigious wager flew along the streets and over the city; and Ben-Hur, lying with his four, was told of it, and also that Messala’s whole fortune was on the hazard.

And he slept never so soundly.

The Circus at Antioch stood on the south bank of the river, nearly opposite the island, differing in no respect from the plan of such buildings in general.

In the purest sense, the games were a gift to the public; consequently, everybody was free to attend; and, vast as the holding capacity of the structure was, so fearful were the people, on this occasion, lest there should not be room for them, that, early the day before the opening of the exhibition, they took up all the vacant spaces in the vicinity, where their temporary shelter suggested an army in waiting.

At midnight the entrances were thrown wide, and the rabble, surging in, occupied the quarters assigned to them, from which nothing less than an earthquake or an army with spears could have dislodged them. They dozed the night away on the benches, and breakfasted there; and there the close of the exercises found them, patient and sight-hungry as in the beginning.

The better people, their seats secured, began moving towards the Circus about